Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
I read this one on my Kobo and there were lots of typos but compared to that disastrous Gutenberg version of One of Ours I read a few weeks ago, it was great. It's a title I've had on my "to read" list for years and years but I've put it off because for some reason I didn't think it would be all that interesting. I don't know where I got that idea, but one night I was in need of something to read without turning on a light, and Moll Flanders was already loaded on the Kobo, so it was that or nothing. I was a nice surprise to find I had a hard time putting it down.
A few times I found the language a bit of a chore to wade through, and some of it was more detailed than I thought was absolutely necessary, but on the whole it made for some interesting reading and I'm glad I finally made the effort.
I'm getting more reading done now than I was when Mum first went into the hospital, but I'm not putting a lot of energy into evaluating what I read, so I'm afraid my reviews are both short and shallow. I think anyone looking for opinions on a particular book might still find something helpful in them so I'll continue as is for awhile; hopefully the day will come when I'll have the time and energy to do more. Mum is doing fairly well, all things considered, but she has great difficulty walking and is exhausted all the time. Things change daily. Some days she can carry on a conversation and some days it's all she can do to say a word or two. She'll be moved from the unit she's in to geriatric rehab when a bed is available there. They'll try to get her more mobile, but at 89, with both heart and kidney failure and things changing from day to day, that's an iffy proposition. It's a wait and see what happens situation, as it has been since she first was admitted in February. For the millionth time in my life, I'm really grateful for books and the distraction, escape and relaxation they provide. What would any of us do without them?